


Father of the Bride

by BeaRyan



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: 40: They stand side by side holding hands, F/M, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeaRyan/pseuds/BeaRyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles is giving away the bride, and, despite himself, he has <i>feelings<i> about the whole thing.</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Father of the Bride

**Author's Note:**

> Miles' POV.

"You sure about this?" I ask. 

I'm sure as hell not. 

Him? With her? 

I kind of understood what she saw in Jason. Big guy. Muscles. He was a cocky little shit when we first met him, but at least he could back it up. Kid knew how to use a bow and arrow and he figured out a gun pretty damn quick once we gave him one. He had the moral compass of a Neville, shifting when the wind changed, but he was content to let Charlie do his thinking whenever they were together. I don't want to think about the two of them in bed, but he probably shut up and did what he was told with vigor there, too. Yeah. Jason, I understood. 

Connor was a different mess. She wanted to annoy people and get her rocks off. Thought she had another puppy. She was wrong. Judging by how often she snuck off with him he had his father's way with a women, along with Bass' sense of what he had a right to claim. I wonder if that little dipshit ever thought he was really running Charlie. Sometimes I'd catch a flicker in her eye or a sincere smile from him and I almost believed it might happen for real. He wanted other things more. Dumbass. 

This guy she's marrying though, he seems like the real deal, a decent guy. A Ben. This is almost the guy you'd want for your little girl, even if she's not little and she doesn't give a shit about your opinion of him anyway. 

I doubt Jeff's ever considered having his own country. Hell, he probably wouldn't even have a job if I hadn't opened another bar. She'll inherit the place one day, he'll work for her, and he'll be happy enough with that. He's a happy guy, able to be content with whatever scraps he finds. It's weird and kind of admirable in a dippy, you'll never make it in this apocalypse, kind of way. 

It says something that the Militia let him out, too. He did his four years on the border and they actually asked him if he wanted to re-up instead of sending him back East for his last year and telling him he'd have to make his way home alone and broke if he wanted to go. He's got enough skills to throw drunks out of a bar, but I wouldn't want to see him in a fight with anyone sober. He can handle the shotgun we keep under the bar, but he's useless with a pistol. 

He takes out the trash. 

Makes a decent omelet.

Makes her laugh.

Babied Charlie and cleaned up after her when she had the flu and puked for a solid week. 

And she let him. 

"I'm sure, Miles," she says, and when she smiles I know it's true. 

She tucks her hand into my elbow, centers her bouquet, and looks completely ridiculous in her big, white dress with a tiny, sparkly crown on her head, like a child playing dress-up. No one has this kind of wedding anymore. 

When I'd tried to talk some sense into Jeff he'd just patted me on the shoulder and said, "If it makes her happy to put us in monkey suits for a couple of hours then it's worth it. We can cut back on the candles or make it a potluck or even not serve booze if the money bothers you, but you've gotta show up and dress up." That's when I'd realized this was her idea. Somewhere under the killer I dragged all over the country is the girl Ben raised. I didn't break her entirely. She still believes in fairytales. 

Charlie and I walk out the back of the big, stone church from the bride's suite and down the cracked, frost-heaved sidewalk to the front door. The building is a monster, probably an archdiocese before the blackout. Most of the stained glass is still in the windows and the oversized, arched wooden double doors, split down the middle, are as imposing as anything strapped to the front of a cathedral in Europe. You come here to get Married with a capital M. This is what Charlie wants, and she wants it with Jeff, a guy just like her dad.

_Let her do a better job loving him than Rachel and I did loving each other or Ben. Let her love the way Charlie does, full hearted and full speed ahead. Let them both live to see their children grown and happy. ___

__I realize I'm praying and stop myself. I don't believe in any of this or anything I'm thinking. Happiness is fleeting. Chaos is the natural state of the world._ _

__She gives her flowers a slight twist, turning a perfect, open white rose to the front, and nods at the door. "Can you get that for me? My hands are full."_ _

__I grind a smile onto my face and grab the old iron handle. It's cool to the touch, the fall temperatures settled deep in the metal, and there's an ache in my chest as I think about going through a winter without Charlie in the house. I haven't been alone since Chicago. What it means to give away the bride finally hits me._ _

__I yank open the door and two hundred heads turn towards us. It's all I can do not to grab a sword and make a run for it._ _

__"Who the hell are all these people?" I ask Charlie under my breath._ _

__She grins at me. "Friends. You should try it some time."_ _

__"Tried it once. He kept dragging me into wars."_ _

__"Maybe give it another shot. Jeff's sister's never overthrown a government."_ _

__I roll my eyes at her, one hundred percent done with this shit. Only a Matheson would think that the best person to hook her uncle / father up with is her sister-in-law. Learn from my mistakes, kid._ _

__I drop her off at the front and take a seat in the front row to wait out the show. The ceremony is pretty as weddings go, and the religion is the vague and non-threatening sort of all-purpose, post-nanite type that doesn't bother me. They promise to stick it out through darkness and light, through challenges known and unfathomed._ _

__They seem to mean it, too._ _

__They stand at the front, side by side and holding hands. She's grinning like she did during those few days we had Danny back. She's happy. She's safe. Her future looks like more of the same._ _

__When she first walked into my bar in Chicago I thought I was responsible for Rachel's death and Ben's. I swore to do right by their kids._ _

__I've made my peace with what happened to Danny. We saved him, and he chose to fight for what he believed. Ben would have been proud._ _

__Now as I see Charlie, capable of standing on her own but choosing to be surrounded by love, I know Ben would be OK with this outcome, too. She may be my daughter, but she's Ben's, too._ _

__I did right by your kids, brother._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Best fandom is best, in no small part because we comment.


End file.
